Got A Long List Of Ex-Lovers: They'll Tell You I'm Insane
by NerdDamon
Summary: Damon and Elena's shotgun wedding in Vegas. This story isn't about that night. This is why they kept it a secret. What happens now? All Human AU. #TVDMixing
1. Love's a game, want to play?

With a shake of Elena's head, she resolutely decides to stop staring at her reflection in the mirror of the bathroom. It's ridiculous really, her friends and family absolutely can't tell that she's married _just_ by looking at her. There is not a glow on her skin like Damon says there is. She sighs happily thinking about her husband who's currently across town at his father's place, getting ready for Annual Lockwood New Year's Bash. It goes without saying that it's Black Tie; always has been, always will be.

Deep down, Elena is feeling a little guilty and that might be the reason it's taken her this long to curl her hair. She knows lying to her family about being married to Damon is a "dick move", leaving a cheap taste in her mouth. (Shush. It's a little alarming how many phrases her inner monologue has stolen from Damon. And he's never gonna know, nope.)

Elena squints at herself in the mirror, contemplating her "dick move" for the hundredth time since she's been home.

It's not as if her mom and dad asked about Damon when she walked through the front door weeks ago when she came home for Winter Break. They have no reason to ask about Damon. And of course, Elena isn't going to casually namedrop him either. That would have been way too suspicious. As far as the Gilberts are concerned, Elena doesn't know Damon. Well, doesn't know him beyond what the rest of their small town thinks about him.

While leaning forward to apply mascara, Elena has to admit that sneaking around behind her parents and Mr. Salvatore's back these past few weeks is fun for her. The thrill of adrenaline gets her all riled up and the sex they've been having might be their best yet. And that's saying something! But it'd be more fun if Damon didn't have to always look like a kicked puppy every time they left each other to sleep in their respective bedrooms in their childhood homes. Elena sighs because the shine of her engagement and wedding ring hanging loosely and low around her neck is starting to feel like it weighs 10 pounds. Damon is rich, but not that rich. No, that weight is her guilt and yes, it's eating her from the inside out.

Elena puckers her crimson lips a few times, making sure her gloss is perfect and evenly applied. Normally, she isn't this vain, but this is the end of the line of their facade. Her life is about to change. God, she wasn't even this nervous on her wedding day. Then again, it'd been in Vegas with a bunch of strangers. Tonight, Elena is determined to come clean to the whole town, reactions be damned. She's a married woman now and nothing is going to change that.

Bravado or not, Elena's heart feels like it's going to jump at her throat any minute. So, she might need a drink first before going over to the Lockwoods. Instead of finding her flask, she's interrupted by Damon's blaring ringtone on her phone, "I'm too sexy for my shirt, too sexy for my shirt, so sexy it hurts". (He'd programmed his custom ringtone before they'd even started dating and sometime along the way, she stopped saying that she was going to change it.)

"Hello, Sexy." Elena answers with a whisper, while walking to her bedroom to put on her full-length gown. Her mom always finds her the best one every year, it's their Mother-Daughter tradition.

"Ooooh, is this going to be my favorite kind of call?" Elena practically sees Damon wiggling his eyebrows at her from the other side of the phone.

Elena huffs a laugh while managing her zipper with one hand. Ultimately, she places her phone on speaker because it's just too complicated.

"What are you wearing?" Damon asks seductively.

"Something you'd really like."

Elena decides to play along flirtatiously just to keep Damon on his toes. With the volume down low, of course, in case anyone walks by her room.

"I've got such silky-satin stockings on... mmm, Damon... they are so soft. They make my legs look good. And feel sooo good." She coos, dropping her voice lower, the way she does when they share a dirty secret. "And they run all the way up to these red garters. They're a perfect match for my little panties. The panties' small little lacy red bows..."

"Elena. Stop." Damon half groans, half whispers over the phone.

She just laughs because he sounds like he's gonna choke. He's never played the inexperienced virgin in their roleplays. Hmm, could be interesting?

"Really not looking to sport a chubby in the same room as my father and my little brother." He explains in a strained voice. She faintly hears a fake cough over the phone.

Wow, buzzkill. Nothing like a parent that does it better. Sure, she'd only been playing around and if she started to get wet, well, it's no one business (except Damon). But it wasn't like they have time for phone sex, so she can't actually be pouty about it.

"I'm almost ready." Voice back to normal, Elena announces after zipping up her dress and adding padding to her breasts. The elegant black and red (Damon's favorite colors) gown covers her front completely while her back and lower back will be left exposed to the cool January air.

"We're meeting-."

"- On the second-floor balcony." Damon cuts her off, no doubt eye rolling. "Yeah, got it. The first 10 times that we went through this."

"Just checking." Elena teases with a large smile on her face. The kind of smile you just can't fake for pictures.

"I can't wait to see you. Are you wearing the tie I got you?"

"My Father beckons. Text you later." Damon replies and abruptly hangs up.

Elena just stares down at her phone, as if the inanimate object personally offends her. But yeah, she knows why Damon scrambled off like that.

Elena and Damon have only been arguing about going through the Lockwoods door _together_ for the past 2 weeks. Elena just doesn't want the spectacle they'd cause while Damon vehemently still protests how much he doesn't give a shit. Damon's taken to reminding her every second that he's her husband. Elena swears it on her life that Damon's favorite word is 'husband'.

With one last glance at the full-length mirror, Elena grabs her purse and heads downstairs to be inspected by her parents before leaving to the Lockwoods.

Not bets on this one, it's a sure thing, it's going to be one crazy New Year's Eve.

* * *

Be Good & Review!

This is an a2a gift story for my friend dannielle1989. I have to finish editing the rest, but it'll be up tonight (?).

Happy New Year, my darling #DEFAMILY. Forever hardcore Damon/Elena. _We are legion._

I'll update my Tumblr with updates about my other stuff, so don't comment about that pretty please.


	2. New money, suit and tie

After 'stolen' kisses in the shadows and inappropriate fondling on the Lockwood's dark balcony, Damon and Elena make their way downstairs to where most of the guests are mingling aka gossiping about the Founding Families as usual.

It's going to be hours before the clock strikes Midnight, but that's not stopping anyone from raiding the Lockwood wine cellar. It's no secret why most of the town shows up to the bougiest family's parties. Elena often jests that the Lockwoods are the sole reason why Virginia imports so much alcohol.

In the main ballroom, Damon is currently stationed by the bar, yet keeping a close eye on Elena. Of course, Elena is staring right back.

Damon smirks -the fake one that he uses with everybody else- as he twirls a single red rose in his fingers.

Damon continues to stare at Elena and she just stares more- they're effectively having eye sex with each other.

Unfortunately, the newlyweds are rudely interrupted as Andie slides next to Damon at the bar. All the while, Elena still stares. Her heels are effectively digging into the Lockwood's ostentatious tiles, yet staying put at 500 feet away from the "scene".

If town gossip is correct: Andie is Damon's ex-fuck buddy.

Keyword: Ex.

Before Damon, Elena never considered herself a 'jealous' person. She is a Gilbert, after all, a Founding Family member, the best of the best. But there must be steam coming out of her ears while watching Andie run her gaudy manicured nails down Damon's bicep.

"You know better than that, Elena." Meredith Fell warns suddenly, distracting Elena from the obscene display at the bar.

Elena simply scowls at Meredith but doesn't say anything. Elena isn't sure why she never noticed Meredith coming to stand next to her.

"Damon Salvatore is one mistake... you don't have to make." Meredith continues.

"Who said anything about Damon Salvatore?" Elena scowls harder, creating indents in her forehead. She's seething. Conveniently, Elena's tone also implies how much the Gilberts hate the Salvatores.

"Elena M. Gilbert. You couldn't fool me when you were sixteen and asking for birth control. And you can't fool me now, at 21." Meredith chides, pulling out the 'I'm your family doctor card'.

Elena glares at Meredith before taking another delicate sip of her champagne. "What makes you so sure?" She asks, turning toward Meredith and lowers her voice. "That he's a _mistake_."

Meredith's audacious look is enough to send shivers down Elena's naked back. "We are talking about Damon Salvatore, right? He goes through women faster than he changes underwear. And their underwear, no doubt." The doctor shakes her head for effect. "Besides, you're a Gilbert. You know better than to touch a Salvatore. Even on your death bed."

Elena sighs, looking down at the tiled floor. "It's all just gossip... This whole town, Dr. Fell." For fuck's sake, two years ago, there was a rumor going around that Damon had seduced Caroline Forbes' mom just to get out of a DUI. This never actually happened, of course, Elena knew given how close she is to the Forbes family.

Elena shudders in disgust at the thought of her husband and the sheriff. "C'mon, Mere. When you were at Johns Hopkins, you must have realized how ass-backwards this town is." Elena whispers in return. If her parents ever heard her talking about Mystic Falls like that, they'd have her head.

"Elena... I get it, I do- you're young and in college." Meredith replies and moves to stand in front of her; blocking Elena's view of Damon and Andie at the bar. "But you don't need Damon Salvatore to experiment or rebel. Hell, if I wasn't your doctor, I'd say, you're better off with pot than ever going near him. Your Aunt Jenna would back me up in a second."

The words, understandably, are hard for Elena to swallow. Elena knew she was going to hear them tonight, but she didn't expect them so soon. It's hard for Elena to keep a straight face. In fact, she's failing, failing beyond belief. There might be tears in her eyes... or it could just be the mascara. Allergic reaction, anyone? No one would be none the wiser in the ballroom.

Elena awkwardly clears her throat before looking back up at Meredith. "You don't know him like I do." She admits in a gentle whisper. "He's at Whitmore with me. And I'll miss him next year, cause he's graduating..."

Meredith simply raises an incredulous brow at her.

Not wanting to lie about whether or not Elena has slept with the "famous womanizer" Damon Salvatore while at university, Elena politely departs for the nearest bathroom.

A year ago today, Elena would have laughed at the idea of hiding in the Lockwood's downstairs bathroom. Elena Gilbert, Miranda and Grayson Gilbert's darling daughter, is always the life of the party.

However, this is tonight and Elena needs a moment to compose herself. She would never admit it, but Meredith's words left a sting in her heart.

Elena closes her eyes to think of happier times.

 _Damon... Damon... Damon..._ Her memory flashes back to their first "real" meeting at their university. Instead of the nausea that she felt walking into the bathroom, her stomach is filled with butterflies, remembering that day and their banter. It was the first time Elena Gilbert saw Damon Salvatore beyond his veneer.

It'd been a usual day at the library for Elena until Damon sat across from her at the table-for-two. Elena, ever so focused, on her chemistry hadn't bothered to acknowledge the presence of her town's so-called "Salvatore Prince".

Breaking it down, Damon Salvatore had meant absolutely nothing to Elena Gilbert for most of her life. There were little memories, here and there, of course- since they grew up in the same town. Memories of Elena being a gangly 10-year-old and him being a pimply faced 13 year old.

Ultimately, considering how many times her parents strictly forbid Elena to spend time with Salvatores; it's not as if they had ever conversed.

Sure, most girls fawned over his good looks as he matured, but Elena never did. Girls and boys fawned over Elena too. Looking back now, Elena should have known they were equals in every way.

"Hi Elena, does your body consist of Oxygen and Neon?" Damon had asked during their fateful first library encounter. "Because you are the ONe."

Naturally, Elena had ignored him. A smirk had never tugged her lips as she continued focusing on her lab's worksheet. Yet 30 minutes later, Elena had been slightly shocked to see Damon still at her table and equally working as hard, using his own matching chemistry book. She had never expected him to stay at her table or in an advanced chemistry class, for that matter.

Elena had laughed in surprise at the time.

"You know how to laugh." Damon had commented, looking up from his notebook. His blue eyes had looked so bright when he uttered the statement.

To this day, Elena remembers that it was the first time she noticed how beautiful his eyes were.

Naturally, in reply to his teasing, Elena hadn't been able to resist returning a Chemistry pick up line. "Why don't we measure the coefficient of static friction between me and you?"

But as the words had left her mouth, all she could think was: _What would mom and dad say seeing Elena Gilbert flirt with Damon Salvatore?_

Oh, the happy memories... Now back to the present and pressing... Elena thinks while fixing her gown.

With a smitten smile on Elena's face, she exits out of the bathroom stall and glances at her appearance in the mirror, before returning to the wolves of the party.

With determined steps in Manolo Blahnik heels, she marches in the direction of the bar to check if her husband is still sitting at the bar with his ex-whatever.


End file.
